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The Void Beyond the Arches RP

The Void Beyond the Arches RP

Introduction:
Plethoras, the plane that we all call home. Christened with five continents, it is a vast expanse of land and sea teeming with life. From there, guided by the hands of the divine above, formed the numerous races that came to conquer the material plane. Leonar, Weskoth, Broxa, Fedimia and Grissom grew nations, held empires and saw them all rise and fall. Over the millenias that pass, Plethoras ahd seen countless civilizations rise and fall.

Just above them all were the gods. The progenitors of life and all-powerful beings of the Astral Sea. There was a time when the divine walked with mortalkind but that came into an end so many eons ago and thus far, they have made little efforts to affect the material plane.

That is until the first Eternal Night when their hand was forced to aid mortalkind and in time, that too came to pass. After some time, there was a relative peace between nations.

Rules:

1. God modding is forbidden. I will kill your character on the spot if you do. It doesn't take much in a magical world to do so. This includes:

Using another's character without their permission

Doing something impossible with your character or have your character know something that he/she couldn't possibly know at the current time.

2. As much as possible, write your posts with correct grammar and be as clear as possible. You aren't the only one playing and if you can't be on Skype, this is more applicable to you since we won't be able to reach you as often as those on the chat room.

3. Editing is forbidden unless its due to these:

You need to fix grammar/spelling issues. Notify me.

You misunderstood previous posts. Notify me.

4. Do everyone a favor and read previous posts before you post yours. Everyone wants to have fun and RPing is best enjoyed when everyone connects.

Tools/Relevant Documents:
If you are interested to play, PM me and I will be sending you some Google Documents regarding the entire RP. Once you create your character from these, send them to me and I'll judge if they're okay. Once done, you can post the character here and I'll add them to the roster.

Personality: Calm, but a bit timid at times. Always on the lookout, paranoid of things but mostly of humans. Very independent. Has a soft spot for those that cannot take care of themselves, but no sympathy for those who can.

Appearance: Rather tall, standing a couple inches short of six feet in height. She has amber eyes to match her amber brown hair which is worn mostly in tight braids. Borderline Anorexic, though she does have a bit of muscle mass and tone. Tanned complexion.

Backstory: TBA

This is all you savages get before we start :3

Last edited by Arch-Angel; 10-12-2017 at 06:18 PM.

SPAC: Genesis
"Everything I've done up until now... it was all for nothing."

Skills/Talents: Skills wise, the is one of the best scoundrels of Lantern Cross. She is nimble on her feet and fast with her hands. Excellent runner and climber, navigating alleyways is definitely her forte. Although she dislikes direct combat, she is a formidable duelist. But she struggles to handle more than 3 opponents at the time.

Her illumian nature gives her magical prowess, but she rejects it. She does have basic knowledge of magic and is able to cast simple spells, such as Light and Minor Telekinesis, but will do so only in situations where she's forced to do so.

Equipment: Everything a proper thief could ask for. Lockpicks are a must, alongside other escape utilities, such as smoke bombs and caltrops. She always carries at least one of either on her at all times. Her weapons are always on main display, with the sword hanging off her left side of the hip, the dagger off the right side and the handcannon holstered on her lower back.

Personality: Confident, Charming, Determined to achieve her goals. Mari can play both sides of the coin, whether she needs to entertain a conversation by dragging it on or get her point across with only a couple of words. She rarely falters under pressure, forcing herself to stay into a calm and collected mentality. She truly believes she always has control of the situation.

Appearance: No Clothing: Mari stands at at 5 ft 9, with a toned yet slim body structure. Her hair is of medium length, ruffled most of the times given her lack of interest in grooming it. The colour is pure red, nearing the crimson. Her facial structure is caucasian. No notable birthmarks or scars except for her Illumian Marks, which cover her cheeks, neck and forehead. Her eyes vary in nuances between white and cyan, depending on the mood she's in. Usually cyan means shes calm, white is anger. When it comes to body measures, her breasts is a regular B cup, with slight hourglass shape. Most of her body is covered in Illumian Marks, roughly 65% of it, with only areas above the waistline and her feet lacking those marksClothing: Mari despises her Illumian nature, given the incident at the Laranis mansion. Thus she covers most of her body, only revealing her eyes and her fingertips. To begin with, her wardrobe can be divided in 2 main sections: the over and the under.
The under is composed of her regular clothing, which consists in a dark long sleeved shirt and dark cargo-like pants, topped with dark leather boots.
The over is what makes her appearance what it is. To begin with a heavy leather jacket with hoodie covers her top half, furnishing both cover and protection. She goes to further on cover her face by wearing a yellow/green keffiyeh, thus making a mask with the combination of it plus the hoodie, revealing only her eyes. She wears cloth gloves which have their fingertips cut off, allowing her to grasp items with ease. Around her waist she sports an elaborate harness like structure made of leather, where she stores her weapons (sword on the left, dagger on the right, handcannon in the back) and her utility (smoke bombs, caltrops, rope etc). Finally she always wraps around her left arm a red and black cloth, symbolizing her affiliation to the Fangs

Backstory: Grown wondering in the wilderness of Fedimia, Marianna has no idea where she came from or how she came on this world. Until age 10 she scavenged the woods and hills of the region, even stealing from caravans that passed through the forest. It wasn't until age 11 that she actually entered a city; by sneaking onto a caravan heading to Palanthas. Once there she lived 3 more years on the streets, stealing and fighting her way through the streets. This earned her the nickname of the Dastardly Illumian. During this period she also managed to learn how to control some basic forms of magic, such as alteration, distruction and illusion.

At age 14 she stumbled across two individuals, a couple of scientists and researchers, while breaking into a villa on the outskirts of the city. During the 'operation', the man caught Marianna and stopped her. But instead of punishing her, the two introduced themselves to her and offered her a place to live. Their names were Rin and Lorelai Laranis. Mari joined their household and her life changed for the better. Instructed by her new parents, she learned much about the history of the lands and the nature of it. But more importantly, she began training her magic. The training wasn't really bringing any improvements, except in the minor spells, such as telekinesis and light. under Lorelai's encouragement, Mari began training more into the destruction spells, even managing to successfully cast some fireballs (after burning down the garden a couple of times).

During one practice session, Mari's powers spiked for an unknown reason, engulfing her and everything around her in a massive ball of energy. She doesnt recall much from that day, except for the screams of her foster parents. When she awakened, the villa had...vanished. Nothing was around her besides the foundations of the structure. The city investigated the accident, but given that Mari was never taken legally as a Laranis member, she got nothing. But before being kicked out, she recieved a box signed To our little Marianna, from Rin and Lorelai . This box contained clothes, a dagger, a sword and a handcannon. She was 17 that day.
After that, Mari was left with a decision: stay and rot here in Palanthas, or seek a new beginning. The latter was the best option, as Mari hopped on the first ship leaving Fedimia with no regrets for her past deeds. This ship was headed to Grissom, more specifically to The Lantern's Cross. As soon as she settled in the city, she took the streets of Lantern Cross by storm, hitting the city with a series of organized operations that not only brought her the coin, but also the fame. Quickly the name of the Dastardly Illumian vanished, replaced by the Red Fangs, Mari's band of crooks and thieves. She began gathering scoundrels from the streets, offering them a source of income and one of food. Turns out there weren't many. But those that accepted weren't disappointed. The years went by, and the Fangs grew more and more infamous. Members recognized each other from the red and black wear that each member wore, whether it was a shirt, a bandana or even a piece of cloth hanging from your belt.

Soon enough, the Fangs were invited to join the Gambler's Den, a gathering of all the impactful gangs in Grissom. Mari was forced to accept, as a no would have brought bad business. Today, the Fangs are part of the Den, but don't spend much time inside it. They mostly focus on hits and jobs in the Lantern Cross area. Mari has been in charge of the Fangs for 19 years, and is known and respected both in the Den and in Lantern Cross.

The structure of her band of thieves is to be decided alongside EB

Last edited by DelorMaximus; 10-03-2017 at 12:10 PM.

Spoiler for Quotes worth Remembering:

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"I mean, also it's a collab so like there's what I wrote which is a dick to the face and what devi wrote for example which is actually pretty decent and setting up something later possibly. And yes, i said devi and actually pretty decent in the same sentence. Never speak of this" -Chrome-

Name: Visage. Neither knows nor wants another name for himself, though he can and will regularly use aliases on an as-needed basis.

Age: Not certain, although he would guess somewhere around 30.

Race: Changeling.

Profession: “Fixer” – a diplomat/mediator/problem solver of sorts. Visage is well known in Fedimia as the very best negotiator and associate for any venture, even though his identity…and pretty much everything else about him…is unknown. Visage operates merely through a “Poster and Page” system. He has posters explaining his varied services, and beneath each one is a Page boy, paid well for their age and position. The Page keeps track of Visage’s appointments and commitments, and helps customers hire Visage for new commissions. He always appears on the job, does it as well and swiftly as necessary, then vanishes after accepting payment. It is also suspected that this job is merely his “front” job, but that his real income is derived from using his skills and connections to build a trade empire. Such is merely rumor…few except for the Fedimia elite know the truth of this.

Skills/Talents:

Spoiler for What He Does:

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Racial: – As a changeling, Visage naturally has the ability to flawless assume the form of other humanoids, even shifting gender if need be (he identifies as/is by birth masculine generally, however).

Profession: Visage is a master of dealing with people. Manipulation, deception, intuition, influence – all of these traits and more are carefully and skillfully honed within his repertoire.

Combat: As an element of both his job and his past, skill in combat plays a large part of Visage’s skill set. He’s made it his business to become at least passable in nearly every school he might need to imitate, but his personal favorite is that of the razor-witted and steady-handed guerilla fighter/saboteur. Poisons, bows, knives, and longswords are his specialties when in humanoid form, although he is a fairly good grappler/brawler as well (though he tries to avoid those kinds of encounters if possible). When in a non-humanoid form, however, he uses whatever natural weapons those forms possess.

Magic: Before he picked up any trade, hones his people-skills, or became a fighter, Visage learned one art – Druidism. As a Druid, he innately possesses the ability to assume the form of any non-humanoid, one of his major tools. Additionally, his is quite skilled in magics relating to the various aspects of nature – plant life, seasons, weather, and animal life. Though many of his spells will overlap with those more focused on traditional elemental magics (such as summoning a snowstorm overlapping with air and ice, or manipulating rocks involving the earth school), his spells revolve around manipulating and replicating natural processes, not synthesizing new and unnatural processes. For example, he is able to cause rocks to heat and melt into magma, but cannot throw a fireball from mid-air. One of his main focuses with these spells is the manipulation of perceptions – shifting shadows and light to conceal himself, scrying, etc.

Additional Spells: As he moved into a more humanoid-oriented life, Visage picked up a few more generic spells to aid his habits. Spells like “Charm Person,” “Aura of Truth,” “Clarity of Mind,” and “Telepathy,” form the core of his most used spells of these schools. These are typically of shorter term and weaker than his primary druidic spells, but they are also generally more subtle when doing a deal in a trade guild’s hallway, serving their purpose to boost his natural charisma.

Equipment:

Spoiler for What He Has:

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Standard: Visage possesses very little “standard” gear due to his shifting nature and needs. His weapons typically are the only consistent items. These are 1) a pair of thin longswords, designed and crafted by Dark Elves and passed down through his family since their time of enslavement; 2) a set of six 8-inch knives, designed as multi-purpose tools but with particular focus on throwing (hidden on his body/legs/arms, typically). Additionally, he wears an amulet of what appears to be obsidian and un-polished silver around his neck. The swords are typically worn on his back, with the hilts pointing down towards his hips for more effective quick-draw usage. The knives are positioned to be easily whipped out and thrown in a single motion from any position.Magical:
1) His clothing. It took him years of work and hundreds of failed trials, but Visage eventually managed to craft a set of clothing that was just as changeable as him. This was done through the somewhat distasteful means of killing and skinning several other changelings who happened to get on his wrong side, then treating their hides and forming them into clothes. With a few runes to bond the clothes to him, they proved able to change at his whim. Once changed, he can take them on and off at will without issue. They can be recalled to his personage if ever lost as if through summoning, and will even meld with his body if he doesn’t need a certain piece.

2) His bow. Enchanted with Druidic power, his bow normally appears nothing more than a short cudgel hanging at his left hip. It is, however, a magically living piece of wood. Upon his will and grasp, the cudgel grows and forms into a full recurve bow. Ammunition is derived by plucking the twigs that spawn along one side of the bow – these twigs grow with a single triplet of leaves at the tail end, and the tip forms a kind of foursquare broadhead. The wood of the bow itself is magical oak, enchanted to be steely hard and durable. This is by far his most valued possession.

3) His amulet. The amulet is the only thing he didn’t craft – rather, he blackmailed it from a wizard. It is a simple amulet of Conceal Magic. It is always passively active, and serves to fend off any unwanted divination about himself, his clothes, or his bow. While used passively, it can merely block the average magic user, or a casual passive effect. If a skilled mage were to focus upon Visage, they could easily overcome the amulet. When he grasps it, he can extent the concealed area to a space about three feet out from his body, aiding in hiding. Again, however, this could not stand up to any focused examination by someone with decent magical skills. Just a way to make his life easier.

Personality: Visage is generally a jovial person. He enjoys being around people, and ensures they enjoy being around him. His general attitude revolves around that thought, although it changes with whatever culture/society he is in. That said, on a deeper level Visage’s dynamic and sometimes frighteningly fervent passions begin to become noticeable. His emotions are as changing as his forms – romantic, sensual; violent, bloodthirsty; cold, heartless; tender, compassionate…the list is endless. The one prevailing factor is that these are not wild swings – he is capable of controlling and suppressing his tendencies. They are, however, what drives him. Satisfaction, pleasure, and fulfillment are his simple yet profound goals in life.

Appearance: Visage’s appearance changes as much as anything else about him. Though he will take any form necessary, and more specifically whatever form will most suit his needs, he does tend to favor ones that are strikingly handsome/beautiful. He’s found that this kind of appearance typically enhances his negotiation powers, as well as deception. Clothing will be whatever is befitting, although again with a bent towards finer tastes. His “base” form as a changeling, however, is fairly simple – white skin, white eyes, white hair. His face carries a few scars from less-than-successful encounters with animals early on in his Druidic career. His clothes are darkened hides (still styled as a normal full set of clothing). He stands in this base form at a surprising and imposing 6'3" (essentially just shy of 2 meters), with a lithe but broad build and somewhat long arms and legs. He's well muscled, though not overly so (both because of magic and the fact that if he needs more strength he can use a stronger form).

{Picture is the best I could find for him…most “white eyes” searches turned up horror creatures, so ignore the iris/pupil}

Spoiler for Base Form Portrait:

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Backstory:
Visage has no clue when or where he was born. He was raised in the home of small-town doctor on Fedimia, who gave him a decent life and presented him with the pair of swords that supposedly came from his real parents and were left with him. He was named Visage at first as a nickname by this father, since he was a changeling and his birth name was unknown. Eventually, however, the name just stuck. Aside from this, nothing of note happened during his childhood, except for the fact that he was generally ostracized due to his appearance. As he grew, the general animosity towards him grew as well. Though he loved his adopted father, he knew when it was time to go. As a teenager, he took what resources he had learned from the local townsfolk and from working his father’s small farm, his swords, and headed into the woods.

He set up for himself a small little home in the wilds, trapping and hunting to make a living. Ferianne, Goddess of the Moon and the Hunt, became his patron deity by default – he wasn’t precisely a good hunter or woodsman at this point in his life, and needed all the help he could get. As time passed, it turned out that he was still disliked by locals – in this case Druids. After two moves of his home territory and two more times being run off by Druids, he finally decided to confront his assailants. They did not see him as a threat, thankfully, otherwise he would have been long dead. Still, he was both an aberration and an interloper, and they gave him a choice – convert permanently to Druidism or leave the wilderness for good.

Visage, of course, decided to join them. Not because he really wanted to be a druid, but because he was a teenager who had just tried to live alone for a year. And hot girls with fit bodies wearing only leaves and leather didn’t make for that bad of company. Enthusiasm, needless to say, was not in short supply for Visage. Years passed, and Visage’s teenage hormone drives gradually were (partially) replaced with a keen mind and deep magical talent. He settled into druidism as his way of life…but, as usual, wanted to change things. He might have been a druid, but he was also a natural born businessman. His stretch of the woods lay between two major cities. The normal road rounded a set of mountains, was beset by bandits, and took two weeks to travel. His woods cut the trip down to a mere five days and were perfectly safe (at least with a Druid escort). Thus, he began doing business on the side, presenting himself as a wily old mountaineer.
Guiding became transporting, and transporting became trading. Soon he was running a successful trade business by himself, and found he liked the money and local influence. A few years and numerous ventures later, Visage was both wealthy and well connected. Still, he was only in the merchant class, and now he was at the age when ambition ruled his thoughts. He pushed himself higher by employing himself as a nobleman’s agent for different people, and once he had built a reputation went into business for himself. The “Poster and Page” system was his own design, and a highly efficient one. Within five years he was ensconced in the upper class aristocracy of Fedimia, regularly interacting even with royalty in many of his jobs. Nothing was beyond his skills, connections, or abilities – nothing too high, or too low.

He pursued not only magic – occasionally going back to his old homestead to commune with nature – but also knowledge. A crucial part of his business was to know everything. The other lands of his world became of interest due to international trade ventures, including Grissom and the history behind the inception of his own race.

With many agents he trained handling his affairs in Fedimia nowadays, Visage had long been considering shifting his attention and expanding his influence to other lands…as well as perhaps land himself a bit of adventure. When the government of Fedimia decided to hire people for an expedition to Grissom, the first name to be circulated among the officials responsible for planning this was the one who had solved so many problems for each of them before – Visage. With a ghostly yet influential trade and service-for-hire empire operating under his authority (commonly known as The United), his connections could certainly be of benefit, as well as his mysterious and myriad talents.

He, of course, graciously accepted.

Thus the adventure has begun.

Spoiler for The United:

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"The United" -- Visage's trade empire -- are not especially "united" except in trade and money. They pay dues to Visage, who in turn ensures trade goes smoothly. The benefits for them are much like a guild on steroids -- better rates, better goods, better market shares, better profits. Anyone can join by signing a contract and paying their dues -- those same people can also leave if they pay a hefty fine to void their contract. Services and trades include literally any and all fields, reputable, legal...and otherwise.

They operate by code phrase -- "It is good to see a friendly face today!" to which is replied "Indeed! Such a pleasant Visage!" The first speaker will then say "Shall we do business?" and the second shall reply "Certainly, for through business we unite." At this point, if necessary, contracts can be exchanged and/or verified by the local United Tradeskeeper.

"Tradeskeepers" within The United are wandering auditors of sorts. These are cold, efficient, and ruthless mercenary businessmen that are as lethal as they are efficient in ensuring Visage's trade laws and contracts are obeyed and fulfilled.

The United are, technically, secret. There are no registries of them publicly, and no detailed public knowledge even by investigative organization. Their existence, however, is a well-spread rumor; to people versed in trade, business, or the blackmarket, it is a well-known fact, if a mysterious one. If someone is a member of The United, they will always know the local Tradeskeeper personally, since he/she would have been responsible for certifying their contract. The Tradeskeeper, in turn, knows every member in his region.

Visage, of course, keeps track of this on his own as well through the various tiers of Tradeskeepers.

Appearance: Tall, incredibly pale persona whose tinge of skin reaches almost blue. Aurea has beautiful, yet a bit harsh face features and heterochromia; her right eye is of sky-blue color, left one is the color of caramel, but they’re both a bit bland and vitreous. Her hair is of light-gray, short on the left side of her head and the rest cut into a long messy angular fringe that ends with a past-shoulder-length braid. There’s a small metal band that holds said braid together at the end of it, and past that there’s a small lock of loose hair hanging.

Aurea wears a full set of heavy metal plate armor with large pauldrons, along with single-visored barbuta helmet, that conceals her visage. The armor itself is quite worn. There are some bends and cracks, certain edges are chipped. Here and there parts are pierced or torn. Despite its sorry state, it is still relatively clean. There’s a black fur collar around her neck, and on her left forearm there’s a massive gauntlet with engraved circular sigil of balancing scales. The upper side of the gauntlet is constructed a little differently, with a thick plate of metal, and can serve as a shield while still not getting in a way during assault. Over that she often has a simple dark washed cloak with one button under the neck, that she has snatched off a dead traveler's body.

Although she’s an undead, that fact doesn’t come as obvious. Her movements aren’t impaired, there’s no sign of decay on her body (Everything but her head is covered by armor anyway. It's already hard to tell her body shape, yet alone its ‘condition’...for now at least). Only suspicious symptoms are her weird behaviors, the paleness and lack of heartbeat and breathing, Aurea often simulating the very last. Her skin is also incredibly cold in touch. Much colder than just some regular dead man’s body.

Personality: Calm and seemingly dispassionate, but stubborn and quick to act once she sets her mind onto something. She is helpful, selfless and just, virtues rarely shown however as now she tends to avoid people, for obvious reasons. She is also courageous and quite clever. Because of severe amnesia and being ‘asleep’ for almost 500 years, Aurea is often confused and lost in the new world, but tries to mask it as best as possible, perhaps because of pride. She also tries her best to pretend she’s still alive in her sparse contact with the alive. ‘It’s better for both sides that way’.

Skills/Talents:

Hypothermia: Aurea’s magic focuses on freezing, but should not be confused with ice bending. She can rapidly freeze things on contact and slightly slower from the distance, but except for shaping during the process, and in certain situations adding momentum, she can’t act on created ice or frozen objects in any extraordinary way. While certain things are easier or harder for her to effectively use her magic on, there’s probably nothing she won’t be able to freeze...eventually. Her capabilities expand even past the physical plane, allowing her to shape and freeze magical essence itself. Ice created by Aurea is magically imbued, making it much harder to break and melt.

Past’s Heritage: While she did lose her memories, Aurea’s instincts and abilities from previous life apparently remained. She shows an immense physical prowess and military discipline both with her weapon or without it, and the armor doesn’t really slow or restrain her movements much. Even though she doesn’t remember a single quarrel, she still seems to be more than experienced when it comes to battle, no matter the circumstances.

Things To Get Used To: As an undead, only thing that drives Aurea’s forward is magic. Both coming from the Necromantic spell and her amulet alike. She doesn’t tire, feels no need for food or sleep, can’t bleed out or suffocate. Additionally, she is stronger and faster comparing to even her ‘alive’ self, which was already by far superior than an average human. Still, her body is just a body and like any other, upon extreme strain it will eventually collapse. Also, Aurea feels connection to the place of origin of the magic boom, and is constantly drawn to it.

Skyborne: There’s one more thing worth of notion, that separates her both from the human and the undead kind. Aurea has an ability to manifest and control a large pair of feathery wings at will, that despite the weight of the armor allow her to move freely in the air at speed definitely worth respecting. However, for only her known reasons, she refuses to use them, traveling on foot instead.

Equipment:

Greatsword: Aurea’s weapon of choice...or rather her past-self’s choice. It is a large double edged sword that narrows slightly towards its point and similarly like the armor, the blade has definitely seen better days. Since the weapon is too big to be effectively sheathed and drawn, Aure simply carries it around in her palm or on her shoulder.

The Amulet: A sapphire and gold decorated silver medallion with a symbol of balancing scales carefully engraved on it, that Aurea carries hanging on her neck. It is ice cold in touch and exudes with magical essence, very similar to Aurea’s own. It demonstrates warding and healing properties, though they seem to affect Aurea only. It protects her from the full potential of the necromantic spell she’s affected by, and over time her wounds would close, and even severed limbs could be reattached. The last taking quite a bit of time and effort to succeed. While she doesn’t remember the item’s significance, the drawback of putting it away are severe and immediate, effecting in Aurea succumbing to necromantic magic within minutes, while losing her own. It is safe to say, that Aurea’s whole identity as a human is contained within this necklace...somehow.

Backstory:

She woke up on some ancient, frozen battlefield, released from ice along with the others, remembering but only her name; Aurea. Still, compared to the rest it was probably a lot to remember anyway...

Lost and confused, Aurea removed arrows and remnants of various weapons from her body and picked up a sword, stuck in the ground right in front of her. She decided to obey the quiet whisper inside her head, setting off to...wherever it was leading her. For now at least. Until she figures out what kind of cruel trick fate is playing on her.

Last edited by MrSkully; 11-21-2017 at 07:59 PM.

I should probably try and find something interesting to put in here...

The only thing louder than Rudolph himself, is his bombs. Encased in thin metal balls, they sport a thick wick and are dull bronze in color. Within is gunpowder, mixed with a stabilizer as to keep them from detonating prematurely. He has different types of explosives, expanding from simple explosives and dynamites to flashbangs and smoke grenades, as well as incendiaries.

His grenades are when he doesn’t have time to prep, having a short burn time so he lights and throws. Dynamites possess long spools for a wick that has to be measured and cut. He taps them into cracks using his pickaxe hilt.

His flashbangs are mostly nonlethal, but in close proximity, it is still an explosive.

His smoke grenades aren’t as elegant, rather being a bundle of sticks and herbs with a magnesium primer to help things burn. It releases thick plumes of smoke, the herbs within giving it noxious smells and burning sensation to the eyes and throat. Good for deterring bandits and wildlife.

Incendiaries are his fancy versions of Molotov cocktail. These are contained within ceramic orbs so that they shatter, a concoction of oil and other chemicals to allow it to burn bright and long, as well as on water. The wick is usually an oily rag that is dipped in. These bombs don’t come primed with a wick, rather a cork. So this allows him to simply pour the contents down and then light it. These weren’t made for people, rather for horrors and undeads, as well as keeping things at bay.

The other two things he’s proud of, besides his beauties, is his cooking and his ability to drink. He isn’t a bad cook, capable of most traveler classics, stews, curries, making simple breads, roasts. However, he adds his own special spin to all of this. He makes it as spicy as the fire he cooks it on. Packed away are a collection of spices that he uses very liberally in his cooking. He even puts chili powder in his water as old family tradition says, a strong diet is a strong body. And being a dwarf, drinking is an honoured pastime, and he’s more than confident that he could drink most under a table. He balances his spicy diet with a good bulk of grains and cheese.

As a dwarf, he has natural talent and gift when it comes to stonework, forging, and mining. The ability to find weak spots in stone and foundation is a more honed talent he developed from his time as a demolitionist, relying less on sound due to his partial deafness and more on feeling the reverberation.

Spoiler for Equipment:

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He wears a flame retardant overcoat, woven in are metallic fibers to assist in deterring shrapnel as well as other sharp objects. Within the thick leather interior are his explosives, stored in deep cushioned pockets.

He has a large cherry wood pipe, still sweet to the taste, that’s in his mouth, smoke drifting out of it at almost all times, except for when he’s sleeping and when he’s eating. His pipe is his main form of igniting his bombs, a deep inhale causing the coals within to glow a hot red that can easily lit the dry wicks. The majority of the pipe’s body except for the bit is covered in metal, making it an effective, albeit small, hammer. He has a box of matches to light them and a tin of tobacco to fill it with.

Spoiler for The Bell Ringer:

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He possesses a steel prosthetic for his left arm. It possesses two modes, one optimized for everyday use while the other was for industrial purposes. The arm has human traits, being in two parts separated by an elbow, but the upper arm is a rectangular-prism segment with a round shoulder cap while the forearm is a large cylinder. A rectangular shield can be equipped on the front, running from the elbow to the wrist and is slightly larger than the forearm itself.

There is a special battery inside the upper arm of the prosthetic that powers the entire beast. It is a mana crystal that charges off his natural essence initially. It then responds to the flow of his mana to control the limb, feeding the gears and pistons the mana it stores. Gears power pistons to open and close fingers while pistons are used to bend at the elbow while a smaller series of pistons rotate the wrist, elbow, and shoulder. If too much mana is stored, it can eject the excess essence as heat and steam, coming out of pipes that poke out the back of the shoulder.

The forearm is host to a special piston, four main gears are used to crank the piston arm up which extends out the back of the elbow. It is a long, wide metal rectangular rod that have gear teeth on all four sides, the warning sign of it being prepped besides the visible piston arm is the clicking of the gears turning, followed by the whirring of the gears as it releases the piston arm to hammer down, creating a second and more destructive shockwave. The gears to control the fingers are inside the forearm as well.

The setting optimized for everyday use is a steel hand that’s skeletal in appearance, about the same size and shape of his normal hand. It doesn’t require much essence to control and the pinkie is just small enough for him to clean out the insides of his pipe.

The setting made for industrial is a large gauntlet that he clamps on over the skeletal hand. It imitates his real hand but is larger and the nails are longer and shovel-shaped. The gears that power the fist gives this tool the power to crush rocks and bend steel, the shovel-like nails assisting in digging in and obtaining purchase upon sheer surfaces. The fist is made of a mithral steel alloy, this gives it the special capability to absorb essence from outside sources. It has dull spikes on its knuckles. The gears and essence works harder to operate the gauntlet thus creating more heat and strain, so he has to take off his overcoat to operate the arm.

He carries around a pickaxe. It’s large enough to be used as a walking stick. While one end is a point, the other is a woodcutter’s axe, giving it much needed versatility. The long handle is used to tap dynamite in place. A heavy metal head with a wooden staff, leather straps bound tightly and lovingly around it. The tool is well maintained.

He has a metal miner’s helmet, within a cavity at the front is a magical stone that always seems to be glowing and mirrors within help direct the beam. He usually has it covered, only uncapping when needed.

He has a squirrel named Ferguson that assists him in indulging in his favorite snack, walnuts. He trades cracked walnuts for kettle corn, which is the squirrel’s favorite snack. It lives in his rucksack.

He carries a rucksack with the standard cooking implements and ingredients, including but not limiting to a pot and pan hanging off it, flint and tinder is in the bag as well as his wide variety of spices, alongside salt and pepper. He also possesses rice and flour for baking. It also carries supplies for his bombs, gunpowder is in its 3 basic components of meal powder, saltpeter, and sulfur.

He has a water skin filled with water and chili powder, so he shakes the flagon every time before he drinks to make sure there’s a good mix. Though it’s only a small pinch for flavor, but it’s still a nasty surprise for people not expecting it.

He also has a small ram horn bow with a quiver of arrows, for hunting only, he’s not a very good shot.

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Rowdy, boisterous, just loud in general. Suffering from partial deafness, it causes him to talk louder than normal which is loud as it is. The dwarf makes as much noise as a clockwork golem twice his size and hits about as hard as one too. His whisper is a deep rumble that’s equivalent to loud muttering. He’s very simple in execution, not much for the intricacies of deep thinking, rather relying on his Dwarvish gut and “straight line” logic. If there is a roadblock ahead of him, the easiest way is through as far as he’s concerned. This combined with his heavyset body, creates a very stubborn bull.

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He has an unruly mane of chestnut hair, a mop of traditional dreadlocks that are pulled back in cornrows and bound together. He also has a majestic beard, obvious signs of grooming and gentle care. As like all dwarves, the carpet of hair that tumbles over his barrel-like chest is his pride and joy. The moustache is braided into thick cords of hair that frame the beard. The beard itself is collected into a ponytail near the end. His skin is tough like leather, a tan not from the sun but from the forge fires. His right hand has thick enough callouses that you can spin blades on it. He has a chiseled stature that is offset slightly by a bit of a pouch around his midriff and in his cheeks. He has a stubby round button nose, that has a slight zig-zag to it, which tells tale of being broken more than once, and slate grey eyes. Black tribal tattoos cover his face and right arm, the main being the symbol of Trisk that covers the entirety of his upper arm. His family crest covers his right eye, a castle tower that grows from his cheek and crests around his eyebrow. Rudolph is a stumpy man at 4’2” tall but weighs about 170 without his gear and 240 with it all, his prosthetic weighing in at 50 lbs.

His career as a safebreaker gives way to an assortment of jewelry he more than proudly shows off. A gold ring on his index and pinkie as well as bracelets on both his wrists. Heavy earrings are pierced into the lobes of his ears and he has inscribed thick steel rings on his beard. Two are on each side of his moustache near his lips while two more are near the ends of their braids while another is tying off the bottom of the beard. He also has a golden denture for a canine. He also bears scars along his face and right arm, as well as burn wounds.

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A miner who lived his entire life in the mines, digging deep to expand the great stronghold of Dorrondar. Pickaxe in hand and dynamite in pouches, blasting through the large sheets of rock. When he was around 50 years old, he lost his arm in a mining accident, a cave-in crushing it and forcing amputation. He spent many years rehabilitating and adjusting to his new prosthetic. Once finished he decided to travel around and adventure, realizing that a life stuck inside a mine wasn’t what he wanted. However, he still owed the gnomes money for his new prosthetic so he decided to test the capabilities of his industrial tool on the vault of a bank. His expertise in explosives and the new powerful limb allowed him to easily break through and acquire the needed currency and then some. This created a new purpose in his life, to see what was stronger, him or these safes. They proved to be a greater pleasure to break through than simple mining. They were not constructs of Mother Nature, they were made by others in an attempt to be impenetrable, a challenge he was happy to take. This made his targets blatantly obvious and he was soon caught, but not after having acquired enough money to upgrade his prosthetic and acquire new jewelry. But then, as luck would have it, a strange nova erupted from the depths of Grissom and the government began seeking participants to investigate this anomaly. So in exchange for his prison sentence, the dwarf accepted the deal.

Last edited by Aquila; 10-10-2017 at 08:21 AM.
Reason: Green lit by Errorblender

I am prepared to meet my maker.
Whether or not he's prepared to meet me....
well that's another matter, isn't it?

Skills/Talents: A generally cheerful attitude and morale booster. The size of the sword betrays his strength.

Equipment: The Sword of Soramaru (A magical sword with the ability to fire arcane waves through charged slashes.)

Personality: Cheerful, happy-go-lucky, and an overall good-mood-dude. Treats everyone with kindness, even when he’s upset. At most he’ll make passive aggressive comments. When threatened with violence he will defend himself or those he cares about. Obsesses GREATLY over his sword, to the point where he thinks the sword talks to him (it doesn’t). He believes the sword is guiding him, teaching him how to be a decent human being. It’s as if his conscious resides within the sword (it doesn’t). All he wishes to do is share the “insight” of Soramaru with the rest of the world.

Appearance: Edward - Dark tan skin and a thin frame. Black hair atop a thin, triangular face. Dark, scruffy facial hair covers his chin and jawline. Eyes seem constantly heavy, as if he’s always tired or weary.
Tattered brown rags cover his torso, hanging off of one shoulder and folding down over his stomach and waist, revealing his muscular chest.
Heavy leather leggings with iron kneecaps and boots cover his bottom half. A tattered black cloak flows from underneath the tattered rags of his top portion, ending just after his thighs.
Leather wraps cover his right hand, while a metal gauntlet protects his left.
He is 5’11” tall.

Sword of Soramaru - A huge, two-handed sword that is seemingly made of a glass like substance. The inside of the sword looks nearly identical to a swirling, green cosmos. It’s 4.5 feet in length from tip to pommel.

Backstory: A simple traveler, Edward Mondlicht went from town to town trading goods and services for basic survival. One night of camping led Edward to find a cave with architecture carved into the walls and floors. Following the path cut into the rock itself he was led into an ancient and crumbling temple.
A single statue was within the temple, a huge robed figure with his two eyes closed, but a third eye open on his forehead. The figure held a sword standing in front of him which glowed dimly and swirled aimlessly with a vision of the night sky in motion.
Curious, Edward approached the statue and grasped the sword. Immediately his vision went white, before fading to complete darkness. Slowly, his sight returned to him. He was crouching in the middle of the temple, clutching the sword closely to himself. The blade cut slightly into his chest, and he heard whispers coming from the weapon. He listened closely, yearning for the knowledge the sword gave. It shared with him secrets of the universe. Tales of the old gods and how life could be simple again.
He wished to share this knowledge with others, and thus went on his own self-imposed quest to spread the knowledge of Soramaru, God of Knowledge and Life, Night and of Guidance, to all that would listen.

Mine is so terrible compared to everyone else's ;c
Name: Amon Alcatraz
Age: 60
Race: Half Elf
Talents/Skills: Amazing healing ability and can conjure durable shields (Up to 2 at a time). He is also well-experienced in the art of Bojutsu
Weapon: A light bamboo Bo Staff with a bright red ruby in the middle of the staff
Personality: He is quite chill and a bit lazy at times, sometimes refusing to heal just because he feels "tired"
Appearance: He wears a dark hooded cloak with some shorts to come along with. His face is mostly covered up by his beard he has dark grayish hair and he has bright amber eyes with a few wrinkles on his face. https://imgur.com/QD20188 Like this
Backstory: As a child, Amon was always interested in healing and conjuring shields he was also interested when a couple of monks were passing by TwinVeil the place he lived in for a part of his life. A few children went up to them and asked them to show some moves. So they challenged an Elven guard to a spar and in a few seconds quickly defeated them. Amon was impressed by this and asked them to teach him how to use a staff like how they did. The leader of the monks said "in 33 years time we will come back here and pick you up and train you in ThornFell." and so 33 years went by and Amon gained much knowledge in Healing and Shield Conjuration,he was then picked up by the monks just like they said he would and he trained with them until the age of 60.

Last edited by BakaBaka; 10-11-2017 at 05:23 PM.
Reason: Changed the personality due to my actions of my character in this RP

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Strike those who don't want to live and those who don't deserve those to live.

Chef: Rabbit has always been a food lover since his birth, and learned to use both a sickle and a knife. He is really good at cooking with anything, even with the most meager of rations.

Historian: Being a well-educated fellow, Rabbit has a extensive knowledge of history and literature. He even can predict outcomes very accurately, and is very learned in tactics.
The most surprising thing about this is that he is fluent in many languages of the world.

Shattered Palm: Rabbit has journeyed to many places and survived, even to the most broken places, where he strangely stayed the longest. Though he prefers being off the battlefield, he has stitched together his own way of fighting called
"Shattered Palm", from all the places he has been, and all his experiences. He is very good on the defensive, as Shattered Palm relies on stone-cold blocking and crushing counters, as well as doing parkour to move around, though not excessively. He also can use a very small amount of magic to amplify his attacks,which are very graceful and smooth.

On the House: Rabbit somehow gets more focused and his natural instincts are sharpened when he drinks alcoholic beverages. Instead of getting drunk, he just gets quicker. No one knows why.

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Equipment: One single book, "History of Us" scrawled in an unknown text.

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Personality: Rabbit is calm, a bit shy, overall a nice guy, with wisdom far beyond his years, but he has doses of uncertainty and paranoia once in awhile. Doubts his own sanity, but usually laughs it off. May have PTSD from the horrors he has encountered.

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Appearance: Rabbit is clean shaven, with round, big silver-gray eyes that flit around a lot. His raven- black hair is long to the shoulders, and a large white bandanna is tied around it, covering his mouth, but not too tight that he cannot take it off easily. His attire leans toward the style of a journeyman, and it consists mainly of a washed-out gray hide jacket and black-dyed leather hiking pants, and a moss colored leather vest.. He wears no boots or gloves, for his hands and feet have become so tough and calloused he doesn’t need them. He is quite lightweight, only weighing 100 pounds, and he is about 5” tall. His lips are chapped and dry from going without water for short periods of time.

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Honestly, no one knows when Rabbit really were, or was born. They mainly patched together his age and details from a few appearances. Everyone at a bar has saw him at one point however, him reading the great big ol’ book of his, or maybe looking around while purchasing multiple rounds of the finest ale, then drinking it without a blink. The man drinks alcohol like water.
He gives a bit of his tale every time in a bar, and people one day decided to piece together some of his story.

He probably came from Axia, though how improbable it may be. Though dismissed as blasphemy by most of us at first, everyone could see something dark in his eyes, and members of the triad shie away when he comes around. How he got out of there, nobody really knows, but how long he put up with it, probably maybe only a little while, enough years that he could build a boat and get the heck outta’ there. Some say he swam, but that’s overreaching what he can do.

Some say he went to Broxa afterward. The guy must’ve been a damn fool, going into places like that. Getting outta there is impossible, no ship has come back, so this one especially has to be false. My opinion, he went explorin to Leonar, diving and sight-seein, making maps that most of us think are true. Then.. he just popped up in Bellmare. He would sit down, put a piece out, and take a drink. He always got questions.

From how he carries himself, everyone thinks he was a higher-up before, maybe a mayor mosts likely, though again- and this frustrates the hell outta his followers - no one knows who he might’ve been. He also has an encyclopedic knowledge of history, though no one cares enough usually to ask him anything.

Everyone welcomes him as a regular nowadays. And, personally, I like ‘em. And we’ll keep grilling him for info, like his god if he shows up again.

Felix Patricius, bartender of the Broken Barrel, when asked about the Stranger

Skills/Talents: Fit physical body from traveling, along with natural heightened senses of an elf, both physical and magic-wise. Well-traveled, well-read and well-versed in the basics of all sorts, like management and statistics, as well as more practical fares, legitimate and shady practices alike. Has knowledge of basic martial arts and swordsmanship to defend herself and buy enough time for her secret art: running away. But her true strength lies in her sense, which helps with her judgement of the best course of action. Her emphatic sense is excellent, and with her love of learning, helps her pick out the best man for the job, fitting talent and personality.

Equipment: A wooden sword for self-defense and a deck of 23 cards. The deck is a magical artifact in nature, but it hasn't done anything for a few decade she has it. Despite ever changing wardrobe, she always wear a set of armor of enchanted leather hide
underneath her clothes that could protect her from average physical and magical attacks. Unfortunately, she's no match for an average soldier head-on. She also has a small carving knife, a memento from her elven family.

Personality: Expressive and emotional, a worrywart and wanderer, she's a weird gal twisted by ennui and boredom. A moderately calm person by default, with an unfocused stare that makes her seem very air-headed. She can be smart and attentive, and her expressive side can hide her sharp wit with a facade of passion.

Appearance: Rather short for an elf, at about the height of an average human male, 5.6 ft. With her elf ears' tips carved off in the past, she looks like a normal girl. With short black hair and brown eyes, an oval face and almond shaped eyes, she's the epitome of an average human, despite being an elf.

Backstory: Raised in Twin Vale in a loving family, she continued her family tradition of setting off for adventure, learning new exciting things to teach others back home, and stories to wow others. But upon stumbling onto the Gambler's Den, she was intertwined with a devilish plot that broke the innocent youth and forced her to grow up. Her lost ear tips are a reminder of that time. Taught to be focused and sharp, she now was a fully fledged adventurer, with a penchant for novelty. But as her journey continued, the things she'd learnt, the people she'd met, everything began to blur into another as a pattern emerges: follies ruining men, and glory upon said follies. Suffering is eternal, she'd learnt. Despaired and tired, she decided to take root in Thornfell as a merchant for a local store. A home for her to return to after her daily adventures of selling some stuff and wandering for wares. Perhaps someday, the goddess Amadea will make her Lady Luck, or at least share some of that good stuff with her. Just like Goddess Reeta and Goddess Ferianne.